Tainted
by Futago no Seishi
Summary: Bakura's life seems pleasant enough: he's a 23 year old medical student, has a job he likes, and comes from a loving family. But underneath it all, things are just a bit darker, just a bit tainted. [YAOI Bakura x Malik, Bakura x Ryou]
1. Part One

**Author**: Aki  
**Pairing**: Bakura x Malik, Bakura x Ryou  
**Genre**: AU, angst, drama  
**Rating**: R  
**Status**: Unfinished, 1/?  
**Warnings**: YAOI (that'd be boy x boy… but that's what you're here for, isn't it?), incest, statutory rape  
**Dedication**: To Iris, because she is the most amazing person I have ever had the chance to meet, and I love her to itsy bitsy little pieces. Also, because she was the inspiration for this story in the first place.  
**Summary**: Bakura's life seems pleasant enough: he's a 23-year-old medical student, has his future planned out, has a job he likes, and comes from a loving family. But underneath it all, things are just a bit darker; just a bit tainted. Enter Malik, the sexy co-worker. He's slowly starting to see Bakura past the long legs and soft lips, and finds himself falling in love with the other man. As the two get closer, however, dirty little secrets start to arise.  
**A/N**: This is Futago no Seishi. I just changed my penname, but decided to keep the FanFictiondotnet name the same, so people can still find me. Now, onto more pressing news. This story is AU. Yes, Bakura and Ryou are brothers. Yes, they are screwing around as well. Got a problem with that? Simple; don't read. Otherwise, enjoy. The second chapter should be coming out in one to two weeks... if I keep on my schedule. But I update erratically, just as a note, so no expectations.

**Tainted**

He was quickly packing up his belongings, stress and lack of sleep wearing down on his body, when he felt it: soft, fluttering touches along the base of his spine. He was about to turn around to see who it was when a slender body pressed up against his back, a soft purr sounding in his ear and warm breath ghosting against his skin. He stilled, body going stiff and tensing at the little touches fluttering down his spine, soft and teasing.

He was quickly packing up his belongings, stress and lack of sleep wearing down on his body, when he felt it: soft, fluttering touches along the base of his spine. He was about to turn around to see who it was when a slender body pressed up against his back, a soft purr sounding in his ear and warm breath ghosting against his skin. He stilled, body going stiff and tensing at the little touches fluttering down his spine, soft and teasing.

"In a hurry?"

Why hello, Malik.

He licked his lips idly as he turned around, arching an eyebrow as he gazed at the other, more pointedly at the full lips parted to allow for breath. He leaned closer to the other until his vision began blurring at the close proximity, their breaths mingling and lips nearly touching.

"Not any more."

One of them moved forward, or perhaps both of them did at the same time; he wasn't exactly sure. Their mouths met and a soft sigh escaped into the air of the room. Arms wrapped around his slender waist as their bodies molded flush against one another, every inch of precious skin pressing against each other between layers of uncomfortable fabric.

"That's good."

Lips parted and questing tongues engaged in an exotic dance, stroking along velvet flesh as hands slid along the smooth planes of slender bodies. Soft breaths brushed against wet skin, pleasure fluttering down to pit in lower stomachs.

"So to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

Teeth nipping lightly at flushed skin. His body arched into the sensuous touches traveling up his skin and under his shirt. He dug his nails into the cloth covering lean shoulders in response to the stimulus, his stomach tightening further in arousal.

"Those nice, tight pants you're wearing."

A naughty tongue trailed along his neck, forcing tremors down his frame. He lifted one leg, hooking it around willowy hips and pulling the other closer, groaning softly as their bodies rocked together. A soft groan rumbled in his throat as he felt soft hair brushing against his cheeks lightly. He wasn't sure whose it was though, considering he had his eyes shut.

"Interesting. I'll make a note to wear them more often."

Malik's hand trailed down along the gentle slope beneath the small of his back, squeezing lightly. Those sinful hands were touching whatever available skin there was and mapping out hidden pleasures.

"You do that."

Deviant hands worked at the buttons on his pants, impatiently undoing the folds of cloth and tugging them apart to let deft fingers slip inside. Teeth sunk down into the soft flesh of his neck and pain lashed through his system, wringing a soft moan from the depths of his throat. Squirming a bit and pressing against the other, he managed to mumble into the thick air around them.

"I thought… you liked me in these pants."

"I like you better without them on."

-----

"You're home late."

Bakura ran a hand through his hair as he kicked the door shut behind him, yawning and not bothering to cover his mouth while he was at it. He shrugged out of the light jacket he was wearing and hung it up in the closet by the door, turning his head to peer into the living room at his younger brother sitting on the couch.

"Sorry, Ryou-chan. I got held back at work."

Ryou was dressed in his pajamas and curled up on the end of the couch, arms wrapped around himself and body hidden behind his legs, which were encased in blue plaid. His head was resting against his knees and he peered at his older brother from a sideways angle. "Again?"

The older of the two muttered an affirmative as he toed off his shoes, kicking them aside next to the closet. "Yeah." Tossing a glance at the clock, he noted that it was already past one in the morning. "What are you doing up so late anyways? You have school later today."

Ryou simply shrugged his shoulders. "Mom and dad won't be coming home from their business trip for another couple of days. You know I hate being alone."

A few long strides brought Bakura into the living room and he settled down on the couch next to his brother. "Ah… I'm sorry I kept you waiting."

A pink tongue slipped out to wet small lips as Ryou smiled coyly, unfolding himself and scooting closer to the other. "You can make it up to me." With that he climbed into Bakura's lap, his slender legs spreading to straddle the other's thighs as he looped his hands around his brother's neck. Bakura arched an eyebrow as Ryou leaned closer, pressing their mouths together. He felt the questing tongue and parted his lips to reveal the wet cavern of his mouth.

After a moment, the younger pulled away and licked his lips. Ryou twirled a few strands of his brother's silver-stained hair, the same shade as his own, between his fingers as he eyed Bakura. "You smell and taste like sex."

Bakura tilted his head up to stare at the smaller form hovering over him, his hands lazily stroking along the boy's thighs. "What about it?" he inquired nonchalantly.

Long fingers continued to thread through thick locks as Ryou responded. "I didn't know your work involved fucking."

"It does when you have sexy co-workers and alcohol in the working environment."

A pause. "I don't like you working at that night club."

Bakura allowed a small grin to creep onto his face. "Why not? Are you jealous that other people are touching me?"

"Maybe." One of Ryou's hands dropped down to the collar of the black button-down shirt his brother wore, nimble fingers starting to undo the buttons. They parted under his fingers easily, seeing as he'd had plenty of practice undoing his brother's clothes by now. He traced his fingertips over the newly exposed skin, his other hand still tangled in Bakura's hair as he spoke absently. "I want you to myself."

"Play nice and share, Ryou-chan." Bakura relaxed against the couch and let the other slowly undress him. He ran his hands slowly over Ryou's hips, one hand sliding up to cup the small of his brother's back and rub gently. It was one of Ryou's weak spots, he had discovered. And sure enough, the younger of the two let out a soft purr and arched into the touch.

"I don't like to share." Ryou tugged the garment off, exposing smooth planes of skin and muscle. Without giving Bakura a chance to reply to his comment, he leaned forward and caught his brother's lips in another kiss. He drew the lower lip between his own and nibbled on it playfully as he pressed his young body against Bakura teasingly.

Bakura shifted and sighed quietly as fingers found their way to his chest, ghosting over his skin and pinching the nipples lightly. Using the hand already resting against Ryou's lower back, he pushed their hips together as he slipped his tongue into the other's mouth, exploring familiar territory. With some coaxing, he managed to get his brother to tilt his head back, and he tasted the fresh skin of his neck.

Shifting back, Bakura eyed his younger brother for a moment, eyes hooded, before gently nudging him off his lap, the moment dissipating into nothingness. "It's late. Get to bed."

He pushed himself off of the couch onto shaky legs, sighing a bit before raking a hand through his hair, leaving his shirt unbuttoned as it was. Lazily, he made his way over to the stairs and proceeded to climb up, the living room suddenly feeling strangely cramped.

"Goodnight, aniki."

He stopped halfway up the stairs and looked down at the couch where Ryou sat, rumpled and sultry. He looked gloriously defiled; dirty, so very dirty. A twinge of old guilt flared up inside Bakura at the sight before he dismissed it. Flashing a tired smile at the boy, he continued on up the stairs once more.

"Goodnight."

**-TBC-**


	2. Part Two

**A/N**: This chapter is written in first person POV. For ease's sake, any chapter written in 1st POV is from Malik's POV, alright? Now that that's been cleared, enjoy. Yes, I know. It's short. Sorry.

**Tainted - Part Two**

I watched him hunched over the bar.

Grasped in one hand was a small glass, clinking with ice and filled with cold amber liquid that was causing condensation on its container. My eyes followed the cup's progress as it lifted from the table and pressed against full lips to expel its intoxicating content down a hungry throat. I observed the bobbing of his Adam's Apple as he swallowed, and soon the glass slammed back against the bar with a loud clank, empty but for it's cache of ice.

"I think you're drinking more than the customers."

I made my way over to the bar, my serving tray tucked carelessly beneath my arm. He had lifted his head at my comment, and was gazing at me with an arched eyebrow and a somewhat amused expression.

"Really now."

I flashed a lazy grin as I settled myself down on the stool next to him, leaning back against the bar and stretching out my body for comfort. "Absolutely." I lifted an elbow and leaned it on the bar top, turning my head to eye him. "What's that, the third drink you've had tonight"

He shrugged and traced his fingertips over the rim of the glass, and I noticed they were glossed black. "Second. And hey, discount for employees. Might as well take advantage of it while I'm on my break."

"I don't think the boss will be too happy with drunk waiters."

He just chuckled lightly. "I'm not drunk; just tipsy enough to think you're fucking hot."

I licked my lips lightly and shifted closer to murmur into his ear. "I was already godly in sex appeal to begin with."

"Don't let it get to your head, Malik."

"Which head are you talking about"

He rolled his eyes and turned his face to lick the corner of my mouth playfully. But as he opened his mouth to retort, I moved forward and claimed his lips before the words could slip out. His mouth willingly opened beneath mine and I could taste the bitter alcohol on my tongue.

"Quit trying to take advantage of me" he said as he pulled away, reaching up and brushing some of his long bangs from his face. He paid absolutely no attention to the nearby patron staring at our blatant act of intimacy.

"It's not like you ever try to stop me." I licked my lips and made a face at the tart taste left in my mouth. "Why can't you ever order anything sweet"

The fingers of one hand had reached into his glass, and he plucked out a small piece of ice. Bringing it up to his lips, he lapped at it absently with his tongue before popping it into his mouth, his reply somewhat garbled from the small obstruction. "They're not strong enough." "And pray tell; why do you need something so strong"

"Because I like the way it burns as it goes down." I'd spent enough time with him to know that he was lying.

"Don't try to shit me."

He rolled the remains of the ice around in his mouth a bit before responding. "Why do you want to know"

"I have my reasons." They consisted of worry as to why one as young as he spent his time drowning in liquor and curiosity over what would cause him to do such a thing. But mostly it was mere curiosity.

"So do I" he said as he picked up another piece of ice and slipped it between his lips"and I'd prefer not to disclose them."

I knew where the limit lay in terms of prying into personal information, and I was straddling the line. So I held my tongue and my curiosity. "Alright, whatever."

There was a small stretch of silence before"I should get back to work." He glanced up at the clock and sighed before sliding off of the stool, grabbing his serving tray off of the bar in one quick motion. I watched as he strolled off, all slender limbs and black leather, to a table with newly arrived clientele, grinning at them as he asked them what they wanted. I allowed myself to study him for another moment before going back to my own work.

I wanted to see how long it would take to unravel Bakura.

**-TBC-**


	3. Part Three

**A/N:** The italicized portion of this chapter is a flashback of Bakura and Ryou's lives when they were younger. For simplicity's sake, all italicized sections from now on are flashbacks. Normal text is set in present time. (And… so sorry I haven't updated in forever. I'm a horrible, lazy person, and I need to be poked more often and reminded to update.)

**Tainted – Part Three**

"_Aniki?"_

_Ryou stood in the doorway, half hiding behind the doorframe. His hair was messy and it fell down about his head in long strands, some obscuring his face._

"_Yeah?"_

_The boy stepped inside, shutting the door behind him quietly. "Um…" He trailed off and started pulling at the jeans he wore with his fingers as he fumbled with what he wanted to say. He apparently found the words he was searching for while staring down at the beige carpeting. "Can I ask you something?" His eyes remained downcast before they flickered up to meet with his older brother's briefly._

_Bakura turned away from his computer and leaned back in his chair, eyeing the other with an inquisitive gaze. "Sure. What is it?"_

_Ryou walked over and sat down on the bed next to the computer. "Well…" The sentence fizzled out before it even began and was replaced with silence._

_Noting that the conversation would be going absolutely nowhere without encouragement, Bakura got up from his chair and went to sit down next to his brother. "Ne, Ryou-chan," he looped an arm around his younger sibling's shoulders as he spoke, "you know you can talk to me about anything." _

It took a moment but Ryou relaxed into the embrace, sighing and resting his head against his brother's much broader shoulder. Their age difference of a whole seven years gave Bakura a considerable advantage in size over his younger brother. "I don't know… it seems so stupid now that I think about it."

"_I promise I won't laugh."_

_There was a pause and Ryou took a breath, as if preparing to say something of utmost importance._

"_Can you teach me how to kiss?" He blushed faintly and sounded terribly embarrassed about it, shifting as if to pull away from his brother's hold on him. "Well, I mean… I don't know. I sort of like someone, and I don't want to have my first kiss and completely mess it up or something like that—I'm sorry, I should have never said anything…"_

_Bakura just blinked at the stream of words before chuckling a bit and drawing his younger brother back. "Is that all?"_

_A small nod was all the reply that he received. The older of the two smiled lightly. "It's really not that hard, you know."_

"_It's not?" A meek inquiry._

"_Of course not. All you have to do is get your mouths together; the rest comes naturally."_

"_But… what do you do with your noses?"_

_Bakura looked amused at the question. "Tilt your head to the side a bit so your noses don't squash together."_

_Ryou looked like he was thinking this information over. "What do you mean that it comes naturally?"_

"_It just does. Don't think about it. Just do whatever feels right."_

_The boy's nose scrunched up in a small face. "What if you end up doing it wrong?"_

_A small laugh made it out from Bakura's throat as he poked his brother lightly in the side, earning tiny yelp for his efforts. "There's no right or wrong way to do it."_

"_But… your tongue. What are you supposed to do with it? I mean, you can screw up a lot with that, can't you?"_

"_You'll figure out what to do with it with some practice."_

"_Practice?"_

_Bakura waved a hand in front of him absently. "You need to practice everything to get a hang of it, don't you?"_

"_But I thought you said it comes naturally."_

"_The movements do; doesn't mean you'll be at ease or confident about it immediately."_

"… _This is too confusing."_

_The older brother smiled and rubbed Ryou's back gently. "Don't worry so much about it. You're still too young for this sort of stuff."_

"_I am not." Came the indignant reply._

"_You're eleven, Ryou."_

"_I'll be twelve next month!"_

"_Whatever," Bakura teased, grinning lightly. Ryou just pouted and folded his arms across his chest, looking affronted._

"_Oh come on, you know I'm just teasing."_

"_Yeah yeah, I know." Ryou turned his face towards his brother and smiled softly. After a moment of silence he spoke again. "'Kura?"_

"_Hmm?"_

"_Could you… show me? I mean, how to do it?"_

_Bakura arched an eyebrow as he eyed Ryou. "Show you?" As much as he loved his younger brother, the idea of kissing the boy wasn't particular appealing. The taboo of incest flitted through his mind and settled uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach._

"_I mean, I know you won't laugh at me, and I trust you…" Ryou shrugged a bit, looking up at the other with his wide, pleading eyes. "Please, aniki?"_

_In the end it was Bakura's desire to please his brother that won his consent. He hated to deny the boy anything that he wanted, and after some more coaxing on the other's part, he finally relented._

"_Alright, alright…" A sigh escaped his throat as he ran a hand through his hair to collect his nerves a bit. He looked at Ryou's young face, which was a perfect image of his own with its rosy little mouth and round cheeks, and wondered what he'd gotten himself into. But he kept to his agreement and shifted closer, bringing their faces together. A faint pink dusted those round cheeks and he watched as Ryou closed his eyes, lips parting minutely in expectation._

_Bakura took a slow breath as he lifted a hand and cupped his brother's face before leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss._

-----

"'Kura?"

Ryou's voice floated out from the living room as he heard the back door open. Rather than his brother, however, a distinctly feminine voice responded instead.

"Ryou! Why are you still awake at this hour?"

"Oh, mom, you're home!" Ryou slipped the book mark between the pages and set his book down on the table, pushing himself off of the couch to go greet his parents. He met them in the hallway and smiled brightly at them as he reached to take one of his mother's bags. "How was the trip?"

"Get to bed right now. You have school tomorrow," his mother ordered instead of answering the question, although she handed over her bag without complaint. However, she promptly pulled her youngest son into a hug, from which me made a little shocked noise since he nearly lost his balance with the heavy bag in his hand.

"Lighten up on the boy," his father said as he took the luggage Ryou was recently given and proceeded over to the stairs. "And the trip was fine, Ryou. I'm glad to be home, though." He let out a sigh as he moved up the stairs. "I can never get a good night's rests in those hotel beds…"

Ryou's mother smiled gently as she let go of the boy. "Have you been behaving and not causing trouble for your brother?"

"Yes, mom." Ryou replied monotonously.

"Have you been getting good grades?"

"Mom, you've only been gone less than a week. That's not going to change so quickly."

His mother smiled faintly. "Was just checking up on you. But why are you up so late? You know well that I never let you stay up till this hour regularly."

Ryou looked a little sheepish as he ran his right hand through his hair, shrugging a bit. "Aniki doesn't come home until around this time, and I don't like being alone so I wait up for him."

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly at that. "You should still go to bed. You won't be awake in school otherwise."

"I know, I know," Ryou mumbled.

The woman just shook her head and sighed as she motioned her hand towards the stairs. "Go to sleep already, Ryou."

Being the obedient child that he was, Ryou bid his mother goodnight before he proceeded to head back into the living room to fetch his book. With the novel clasped loosely in his hand, he then he headed up the stairs and disappeared onto the second floor in a flash of blue plaid and silver hair.

It was at that exact moment that the back door opened once more, admitting the older son into the house. Upon spotting his mother, he blinked at her before smiling as he slid out of his coat. "Welcome back, mom."

"Bakura, how could you let your brother stay up so late?"

He looked a bit embarrassed as he toed off his shoes, running his right hand through his hair and shrugging his shoulders faintly. This was one of the habits that Ryou had picked up, along with a few others, from his brother over the years. "Uh… I don't want to be the mean older brother and send him to bed when he doesn't want to sleep?"

His mother gave him a look that showed him just what she thought about that excuse. He smiled a bit nervously as she shook her head.

"Just don't do it again."

"I promise I won't."

"But thank you again for coming home to watch Ryou for us. I know how busy you are with school and work."

"It's fine; don't worry about it." He smiled at her as he spoke.

"I trust you've been taking good care of him while we were gone?"

Bakura's smile faltered a bit before it returned full-force. "Of course, mom."

**-TBC-**


	4. Part Four

**A/N:** Again, since this is in 1st person POV, this is from Malik's POV. And, someday, I will start updating regularly. I think. I hope. U.u

**Tainted – Part Four**

I rolled over in bed and grabbed my lighter and pack of cigarettes off of the nightstand. Drawing one cylindrical stick out, I stuck it between my lips and flipped the lighter on, a small flame illuminating my hand in the near darkness. I brought it up to the tip of the cigarette and watched as it caught fire, snapping the lighter shut as I took a long drag. I let the toxins circle around in my lungs and soothe my nerves before I released them in a slow breath.

He made a face next to me and waved his hand in front of his face as if to banish the smoke and odor. "You smoke too much."

"And you drink like a fish," I replied before taking another drag. "We each have our bad habits."

"I suppose."

The night was warm, seeing as it was nearing summer. The sheets clung to our bodies uncomfortably and his skin was sticky with sweat and heat, as was mine. I turned my head to watch him and he let out a sigh as he brushed damp bangs away from his forehead.

"What time is it?" he asked.

I glanced over at the clock sitting next to my cigarettes and squinted to read the hands in the dim lighting. I wasn't fortunate enough to have a digital one with luminous numbers. "Two fifty-something."

"I should be going." But rather than leaving, he pushed his nude body closer to mine, his long legs sliding over my own.

I wrapped my free arm around him and played with the long hair that brushed against his back. My fingers threaded through the fine strands and twirled them absently. Soon they caught on a knot and I worked gently to untangle it. "Why?"

"I have class later this morning." His face had wedged its way into the crook of my neck and his lips ghosted across my skin as he spoke.

"Don't go."

He shifted and pushed himself onto his upper arms, climbing fully over me. His smaller body settled down over mine, but he kept his weight on his forearms and gazed down at me. His eyes appeared obsidian in contrast to his pale skin and I lost myself in their depths. "I'll risk losing my current grade if I don't do well on the next test."

"And will that really matter so much?"

"I might flunk out of med school 'cause of it."

I arched an eyebrow at that piece of information. "You're a medical student?"

"What of it?" He had lowered his head and was tracing his tongue down my neck, the touch teasing and distracting.

"It just doesn't seem like you, 'Kura."

He stopped in his ministrations as I spoke. "Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"Just don't want you to."

To silence any further inquiries, he pressed his lips against mine, tongue forcing entry into my mouth. I let him kiss me and ran my fingers along his spine gently, listening to the soft purr in his throat. I wouldn't have pressed for more information, but I certainly wasn't against his method of silencing me. Although I was curious now as to why the name irked him so much.

When he pulled away, he licked at the saliva left on his lips and made another face. "You taste gross."

I brought what was left of my cigarette to my mouth and took a long drag before letting the smoke billow out into his face. He coughed and smacked my shoulder while I laughed. "Malik!"

"Your fault for kissing me while I was in the middle of a stick."

"Whatever."

We just lay together in silence afterwards, me finishing up my cig and him entertaining himself by tracing invisible patterns on my skin. I listened to the sound of his breathing and focused on the way his breath warmed my neck as I put out the cigarette in the ashtray.

"You know," he mused softly, "I don't really want to be a doctor."

"Then why are you in medical school?" It didn't make much sense why he would go through all that tedious work if he wasn't even interested in the profession.

He shrugged lightly. "My parents want me to be one. And since I still don't know what I want to do with my life, I might as well make them happy."

I frowned slightly at that and tilted his head up to look at his face. He lifted a thin eyebrow as our eyes met. "You should try to please yourself before you please others."

"I'm sure you know all about that."

I grinned lightly. "But of course. I'm all about self-love."

"In more ways than one."

"Precisely."

He rolled his eyes, though a small smile curved his lips.

"But seriously," I continued with my prior thought train, "try to find what you want in life, what you like. Doing things to please others will never make you happy." There was silence subsequently and I wondered if I had said something wrong.

"I know," he murmured after a moment as he looked away.

There was an odd mixture of emotions in his voice that gave it a melancholic brilliance. I longed to see the expression of his eyes but I feared that I'd probed too deeply into his life already.

"I really should go now." He turned his face back towards me and smiled a bit, leaning forward to give me a soft kiss. I made no protest this time when he pulled away and started getting out of bed.

"Alright."

I watched as he dressed in the dark, his movements slow and sinuous. His hair fell down to cover his face as he pulled his clothes on, hiding the expanse of pale skin I was so intently admiring. He fumbled around in my room a bit to find the rest of his belongings. He'd been in here enough times to know where everything was in the dark, so he found his things easily.

When he was halfway out of the door, he turned back and gave me a relaxed smile. "I'll see you later."

"Mm, bye."

With that he stepped into the brightly lit hallway, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. I stared at the slab of wood for a moment longer before shutting my eyes and rolling over.

I had noted that the smile hadn't quite reached his eyes.

**-TBC-**


	5. Part Five

**A/N:** Again, italicized part is a flashback reviewing how Bakura and Ryou's current relationship developed. And look! An update that's fairly on time! W00t!

**Tainted – Part Five**

_Ryou was breathing heavily. His lips were parted and they were slightly swollen and pink. A light sheen of saliva coated them and gave them a glossy shine._

_Bakura found himself staring at those soft lips and it made him sick._

_Slender hands gripped at his shoulders, and they clenched and released minutely as knees and thighs bumped awkwardly against his own. Bakura watched as his younger brother shifted on the bed a bit more before pushing himself up. The small body settled down over his and he felt legs wrap around his own as Ryou snuggled up against him. Hair tickled his chin as the boy wedged his face into the crook of his neck and pushed up against him._

"_Aniki…"_

_With each slight undulation of Ryou's hips, he could feel a hardness pressing against his groin. He swallowed thickly as his brother whimpered softly into his ear, hands tugging gently at his hair as the slim hips continued pushing against him insistently._

"_Ryou, I think that's enough for now."_

_He received a soft whine in response. Ryou drew away and tilted his head to look up into his brother's eyes, and his face was flushed prettily with arousal. His wide eyes seemed richer in color, and Bakura could almost see the lust leaking out of them. His brother looked all too young for such an appearance._

"_No… It hurts…" Ryou bit his lip and shifted some more on the other's lap to relieve the tension in his jeans._

_The words caught in his throat and he fell silent as he turned his face away from Ryou's, closing his eyes and letting his brother do as he wished. His hands remained immobile on the other's hips and he made no move to push the other off. "I'm sorry."_

"_Onegai, 'Kura… Make it go away." Ryou's voice was soft and breathy, young and sultry._

_Bakura looked unsure for a moment before he sighed and dropped his head to press his face against his brother's neck, shutting his eyes and letting himself drown in the darkness and Ryou's scent. "Alright."_

_He slid his hands over worn denim and cupped them over a slight bulge, squeezing it gently as Ryou pushed up into his touch. He fumbled with the buttons for a moment and slid the pants down long, slim legs. His brother's thighs trembled slightly as he settled back down over him, and Bakura focused his eyes on the creamy skin in order to avoid the sight of his wicked hands and what they were doing._

_A soft moan escaped into the air, followed subsequently by shallow breaths—and soon enough, Ryou's spine was arching with pleasure and his body grew tense. Bakura covered his brother's mouth quickly with his own to muffle the soft cry as he felt sticky liquid splatter against his palm._

-----

With water dripping off of him and some suds still resting on his slick skin, Bakura dashed out of the bathroom. The phone was ringing shrilly by his bedside, and he skidded on the floor with his wet feet and nearly crashed into the bed as he reached for it. While fixing the towel that was slipping quickly off of his hips, he grabbed the receiver and pressed it against his face, nearly dropping it from the slippery texture the water gave the plastic.

"Hello?" he panted lightly into the phone.

"Bakura? Is something wrong?"

His hair was plastered uncomfortably to his cheeks and he pushed the wet strands away before bringing the phone back to his face, frowning down at the water dripping all over the floor. He wasn't particularly looking forward to cleaning up the mess. "No, no, everything's fine, mom."

"Then why are you out of breath?"

"You called while I was taking a shower and I had to run to get the phone."

"Oh, I'm sorry." His mother's voice was soft and he had to concentrate to hear her properly over the music pouring from his stereo.

"It's fine." He reached over and turned down the volume on his stereo, the heavy rock dimming to a dull thrum in the background. "Is there any reason why you called?"

"Can't I just call to ask my son how he's doing?"

Bakura sighed to himself. His hand was still clutching the towel to his body and he longed to head back to the bathroom to finish with his shower. His skin felt slimy and dirty and all he wanted was to be clean.

"No," he teased quietly, "of course you can't."

He could hear, rather than see, the somewhat amused smile on his mother's face through her voice. "You're a dreadful child."

"You can always disown me, you know."

"I've been considering it for some time now."

The small talk continued on for a little while, and goose bumps had risen all over Bakura's pale skin by the time his mother actually got to the point of her call.

"I was wondering when you were coming back home for a visit. It's been two months since we last saw you."

"I'm sorry. I've just been so busy lately." He wasn't really. Sorry, that is.

"Understandable. Just try to come home this weekend if you can; your brother misses you terribly."

Bakura paused momentarily. He nibbled on his lower lip as he stared at a spot on the wall opposite to him, and wondered absently how it had gotten there. He didn't care all that much about the stain, really, though he told himself that he did.

"Alright, I'll try to."

**-TBC-**


	6. Part Six

**A/N:** Since this is in 1st person POV, it's Malik's POV. And, look! A fairly up-to-date update! XD

**Tainted – Part Six**

The moon shone luminous and sharp. It made the black of the ocean shimmer silver and green, and when I closed my eyes, I fancied I could see my dreams dancing across the surface in monochrome.

The strands of his hair were sheer wisps of smoke fluttering around his head. The moonlight permeated his skin and he looked like a china doll. Except porcelain isn't porous and translucent. I could see the hint of veins beneath the veil of his skin, and they were a roadmap of broken bits to his heart.

I had never looked at him in quite this manner before.

Whenever my gaze landed on him, it was with desire. Always lust need want sex sex sex. It oozed out from his pores and laced through his words. I wanted him, he knew it, and he never did say no. And in the end, everyone is satiated and it begins once more. Work, talk, lechery; rinse and repeat.

Never did I stop and actually look at him. And standing besides him on the pier, at half past one, I took the chance to finally do so.

The shadows frolicked along the curves of his cheeks and slept in the dips beneath his eyes. They framed his lashes and I could barely tell where the penumbra ended and the richer black of his eyes began. They leaked further along his face in small rivulets and placed bars over the mauve of his lips. He never did have rosy red lips. They were a muted plum that bled into his ceramic skin, cold in appearance.

But I had learned soon enough of the biting heat of those lips.

I admired the symmetry of his face and, for the first time, realized how beautiful he was.

I wanted to remember the slight tilt of his chin and the way he seemed separated from reality. So I focused on him with the lens of my eyes, and, with a click of the shutters of my lids, captured that moment. I stored that snapshot into the back of my mind, and the beauty of it all was that I didn't need negatives to produce the image. All I had to do was look through the folders of my memory, however dusty they may be, to find it.

"We should do this more often," I mused aloud. We never spent much time together out of the bar or our respective apartments, most notably our beds.

He turned his head when he heard my voice, and that perfect pause of eternity slipped past as our eyes met. "You mean go out?"

"No, I was referring to practicing the art of breathing."

He rolled his eyes at me and I gave him a small grin in return.

He leaned more heavily on his arms and his fingers dangled over the metal railing as he turned his head back to stare out at the ocean. "I love nighttime," he murmured out of topic.

I committed myself to the study of his profile and, instead of trying to bring conversation back to the former thread, continued my stitches in this new direction. "Why?"

There was silence and I thought that maybe my inquiry had been lost in the wind, but he responded soon thereafter. "It hides imperfection."

"Does it really?"

He nodded absently as he spoke. His voice, with its minute inflections, suddenly seemed vulnerable and I had the desire to kiss it as if it were something tangible. "Mostly. It's not accusing like daytime. It doesn't probe and try to strip away your defenses to char the ugly deformities beneath."

I pondered this and looked at his face, at the shadows and the eerie light making him look older and so so tired; I was sure it was an exhaustion that ran deeper than the corporeal. He looked beautiful and tragic and everything that he tried not to be in daylight, and I longed to ask what defects he harbored. "But sometimes shadow only proves to heighten flaw."

He turned his head to look at me once more and his mouth stretched into a faint smile. "Perhaps." A pause. "But the night is beautiful."

"I can't argue with that."

We both spent the next moments in quiet reflection and admiration. His eyes were trained on the swelling of the sea, his thoughts somewhere that I could only speculate of. And as for myself, I'd returned to watching him. I wondered how ugly he thought himself beneath his darkness and waited for someone to press pause on the recording of time. Then I would have an excuse to capture him on the film of my mind once more.

He was the first to move. There was some quiet shuffling before fingers, clammy with cold, pressed against my cheeks and his breath skirted over my lips. Our mouths met in practiced choreography and he tasted faintly of mint, and it was over all too soon after it started.

"Here," he murmured as he pushed away. He shoved a hand into his pocket before drawing out a small key, which he pressed into my palm. When I cast him a curious glance, he just shrugged. "It's a key to my place. You're already over there enough as it is, so I figured I'd just give you this so you can come over whenever you want."

I fingered the metal, slightly warm from his body heat, before slipping it into my own pocket. "Whenever?"

"I wouldn't protest the company." It almost sounded sadly wistful, but I hadn't the time to wonder about it as he had already pressed our lips together once more. His body molded against mine and I took from him what he was willing to give.

Early morning saw us back in the familiar territory of my bed, and we were back in routine.

Rinse and repeat as needed.

**-TBC-**


	7. Part Seven

**A/N:** Again, italicized part is a flashback reviewing how Bakura and Ryou's current relationship developed. Short chapter, but it can't be helped. And I make no apologies for lack of updates; I've decided that they're ineffectual and a waste of time.

**Tainted – Part Seven**

_A shift of limbs, the rustle of sheets._

"I don't want to hurt you..."

Trembling fingers found hot skin and traced curiously, as if it were a rare species of flora. Possibly as if they were caressing the bruising petals of a gardenia.

"You won't, 'Kura... you never do."

Bakura relaxed into the little touches sliding down his back and found them very distracting. Probably what his brother was aiming for, though.

Ryou lay beneath him, hair splayed out over his pillow, and somewhat older but not. His face was still round, eyes still wide, and lips still kiss-bruised. Bakura felt faint as a slender leg lifted to wrap around his hips.

Receiving no reply from the other, Ryou reached up and tugged his brother down closer by his hair. Their lips hovered not an inch from each other and Ryou shut his eyes to enjoy the feel of the hot breath against his skin. Some time during the course of their shifting, they'd wound up with their legs intertwined. The soft skin of Bakura's thigh pressed between his legs, and his own between his brother's legs.

The older had turned his face away, and all Ryou could see now was silver silk. A small pout curved his lips. He ran his fingers through Bakura's hair for another moment before he pushed his hips upwards slightly, thighs flexing and skin rubbing against skin.

A small jolt passed through Bakura's frame and his breath caught in his throat. A tight heat rushed down his body and he bit his lip as it settled painfully between his legs. With each small oscillation he tried to pull away, but Ryou's hands held him back and all he could do was pant thinly at the pleasure and humility of it all.

"Onegai, aniki..." Ryou's voice was soft like everything about him and he vaguely wondered when his brother had become the bait into a world of iniquity.

Ryou's hands were on his face, in his hair, and everywhere and nowhere at the same time. They soothed and teased and stung, and he couldn't figure out how his brother suddenly had to lead him through all of this. As if this was his first time and not the opposite way around, and he was the one insecure and scared out of his mind.

Then he realized that he was terrified, and that this was his baby brother.

Lips pressed against his and asked meekly for permission, which he gave readily without thought. His mouth opened and the kiss was heady, and if he closed his eyes tight enough, he could pretend that those soft moans belonged to someone else.

When he closed his eyes long enough, he could just pretend. The trembling body beneath his own was someone else's, the nails digging into his shoulders not his brother's. The tight heat that made him shiver belonged to a handsome young man he'd taken home, the same one that sat in the corner of his physics class.

He would have liked to imagine a woman, but the erection trapped against his stomach ruled that out.

Eventually he would come to terms with all of this, and he would be fucking Ryou. It would be Ryou who groaned into his ear, Ryou who begged him for more, and Ryou who beamed at him sweetly afterwards as they lay and panted to the chorus of their heartbeats.

But for now, it was just a faceless, nameless lover that writhed beneath him.

**-TBC-**


	8. Part Eight

**Warning**: Self-injury**  
A/N:** I make no apologies for lack of updates; I've decided that they're ineffectual and a waste of time.

**Tainted – Part Eight**

Bakura traced his finger lightly over the blemish.

It was a pale and white like most scar tissue. It was smooth and slightly raised, and it traveled up the length of a thigh in a smooth line. His fingers slipped sideways and traced the path of another scar not much distance from the other. This one swerved sideways rather than upwards, and if it were just a tad longer, it would have intersected with the first to make a warped sort of cross.

How ironic that might have been.

His hand moved over the skin and felt the grid of raised flesh beneath his palm, scars with a history that dated back to a time he'd already forgotten. One two three, twenty twenty-one. He counted absently as he followed their straight courses. He didn't keep track because he knew there were more than he could possible count lying around the smooth curves of Ryou's body.

Again his fingers jumped to one side and instead of soft scar tissue, he came in contact with a fresh scab.

He traced it as well and it was hard and the texture rough. Tilting his head down he gazed at it, and the deep burgundy against pale skin seemed strangely natural.

"I thought you said you'd stop," he chided softly, though it sounded more rueful than upset.

Ryou continued staring up at the ceiling and let his brother trace his fingers over his growing collection of scars. "I lied."

This somber, silent young man was simply a facet of Ryou's personality—and he felt privileged and a little sad that he was the only one his brother ever dropped his walls around.

Bakura sighed and shut his eyes, head still pillowed on his brother's chest. His head moved with each breath the other took, and he tried to concentrate on the jumping heartbeat in Ryou's chest. It palpitated and drummed, and he could feel it faintly against his cheek, almost as if it were trying to break through the bars of Ryou's ribs. It was strong and hectic and he loved to hear it throb into his ears and through his veins.

"Why?" he asked after a moment.

"Why did I lie?"

"No; why do you still do it."

"The same reason I gave you the last three times you asked me to stop." Ryou's voice was faint and he threaded his fingers through Bakura's hair absently. He was probably only tangling the long strands further, but he knew his brother wouldn't mind too much.

Bakura let the other play with his hair and continued listening to the fluttering pulse beneath his cheek. He wondered what it would sound like to hear the blood escape from its confines when Ryou cut himself. Did his brother hear it roaring in his ears, a wet, sensual sound? Did he hear his heart as it contracted and expelled its nectar?

Or was it simply just silence?

"Doesn't it hurt?" He couldn't imagine what cool metal felt like against flesh. He'd cut himself while cooking before, but he couldn't recall an exact feeling. All that came to mind was a sharp pain that made him bite his lip and hiss when water flowed into the cut to rinse away any dirt that lingered.

An eye opened and he looked at the smooth expanse of Ryou's stomach, tracing the faint marks there and wondering about it.

Was it difficult? Did the knife jam on the ribbons of muscle and refuse to budge, a cold obstruction? Or maybe it was simple. Perhaps the blade slid like silk and parted flesh and skin and life like butter, and the bloody marmalade was spread across the fleshy bread.

All this during the one second it took Ryou to draw in a breath and speak.

"That's the whole point."

Ryou was cold and his feet pressed against the curves of his brother's ankles in an attempt to steal his warmth. The older brother reached out and grabbed the covers, wrinkled and twisted from where they had been kicked aside, and pulled it over their bodies. Yet it was still not adequate and Ryou pushed closer, pressing every inch of exposed skin together.

The air in the room was stale and reeked of sex. They had opened the window earlier to let it air out for the night; perchance they would also change the sheets when they woke.

Bakura returned to his quiet contemplation of his brother's heartbeat and Ryou stared blankly up at the ceiling.

"It's not like I'm going to kill myself, 'Kura," Ryou offered when he felt as if the silence would swallow them whole.

"I know," was the soft reply, and Bakura tilted his head up to give him a small smile. "Do whatever, just as long as you're happy. I'm just worried about you."

Ryou tugged Bakura closer and nudged their noses together, arms looping around his brother. Their breaths became synchronized and when he inhaled, Bakura exhaled, and vice versa. Soon they were sharing and recycling breath, and for some reason, it felt all too intimate.

"I love you, aniki."

Their lips met briefly before Bakura pulled away, reaching over to turn off the light. Darkness swept over them and he settled down comfortably above the smaller body, head pillowing once more on his brother's chest. "I love you too, Ryou. Now go to sleep; it's late."

Bakura lay awake as he listened to Ryou's breathing even out, and soon it was a deep underlying current beneath the rhythm of his heart. He listened to its melody and wondered just what it would be like if it suddenly stopped.

**-TBC-**


	9. Part Nine

**A/N:** Since this is in 1st person POV, it's Malik's POV.

**Tainted – Part Nine**

The door gave way under my fingers and I pushed it open gently. Surprisingly, the lighting was dimmer inside than in the hallway. For a moment I suspected that he wasn't there and perhaps left the lights on accidentally.

I stepped inside and shut the door, my shadow swallowed up as the light behind me died. I still had the key grasped loosely in my palm and I fingered it absently as I toed off my shoes. My bare feet slid quietly over the cool tile as I wandered further into the apartment.

"Bakura?" I tried tentatively. But I might as well have remained silent for I received no reply.

The apartment was fairly small and I could already see most of it from where I stood, not too far from the entrance. To my right was the small kitchen, where the remnants of his dinner was sitting on a counter; ramen, with a few of the noodles splayed over the rim and chopsticks sticking out from the bowl at odd angles. It struck me as unusual that he would have left the food out and not even bother to put it in the sink; he was an absolute neat freak, you see. If he had indeed left, he must have been in a rush.

I never understood why he was so obsessed with having everything in order. Everything had to be clean. Dirty sheets, dirty clothes, and a dirty floor bothered him to no end. The only time I ever saw clothing on the floor of his apartment was when I spent the night, and he was too preoccupied to care about where his clothes were landing as they were stripped off.

I realized I had been staring off into space, and as I blinked, my vision came back into focus. The soft blur of shapes and colors formed objects once more and I found myself staring at the lonely bowl of soup on the counter. I turned away after a moment and let my eyes drift into the bedroom directly in front of me. Well, it was more of a living area than a bedroom, I should say. A small television stood on a dresser against the wall and in front of it was a proportionally small coffee table. A worn-down couch faced the screen, at its back the footboard of his bed. His neatly made and untouched bed, I noted.

I should have left, seeing as he obviously wasn't home. Actually, I should have done a lot of things in the course of my life. I should have stayed in college, so that my future wouldn't seem so bleak. I should have stayed at home and taken care of my family rather than running off. I should have stayed away from cigarettes, since it's a horrible and unhealthy habit. I should have done more than simply regret what I did and didn't do in the past. And I shouldn't have fallen for him. But of course, I didn't do any of that.

So I didn't leave.

I continued to roll the key, now warm with my body heat, in my hand as I walked around the apartment. I'd already been here enough to know my way around with my eyes closed, but I looked none the less. I knew I was loitering and stalling time, since I had no reason to be here. But I didn't want to leave because the thought of going home to my own empty apartment wasn't exactly appealing.

Eventually, I found myself standing in front of the bathroom door. It was the only place I hadn't checked yet, and I didn't think that it was likely for him to be in there. I hadn't heard the water running while I was there, and for what other reason would he be in the bathroom?

But of course, I was wrong.

He lay fast asleep in the bathtub, textbook open on the edge and arm half draped across it. The small window above the tub let the moonlight in, highlighting the beads of water on his skin that hadn't evaporated yet. They shimmered like diamonds imbedded in the sand of his skin, waiting to be uncovered.

I made my way quietly towards him and knelt down on the floor.

Apparently, he was studying when he had fallen asleep. I rolled my eyes as I carefully removed the book (more akin to a tome) from beneath him and set it aside on the floor. I'd always told him that he studied too much, but he never listened to me. His arm was bent in a somewhat awkward position, and I knew he'd be sore when he woke up if I didn't move it. But I was afraid to wake him, since he seemed so tired.

His head had fallen to the side during his sleep and the angles caused shadows to obscure half of his face. Some of his wet hair had fallen into his face and he'd managed to draw a lock between his lips. I reached out and brushed it aside, letting my fingers touch the skin beneath. He was cold, despite the fact that he was immersed in warm water. Pressing my palm gently against the curve of his face, I felt the cold seep into my skin as he took my warmth.

I knelt by the side of the tub for a while, and by the time his eyes fluttered open, my knees had begun to ache. I kept my hand against his cheek as he made a few whining noises in the back of his throat and started to stir. His brows drew together, accentuating a deep line between them that I'd never noticed before. His joints were probably hurting him from the awkward position, I mused.

As I was pulling my hand away, he pulled his own out of the water and pressed it over mine, keeping it there. The lukewarm water ran down my skin and dripped off my elbow. I smiled a bit as he let out a groan, shifting and sloshing water around.

"Ugh... Malik? That you?" His eyes remained closed and the words were slurred with sleep.

"No, it's the tooth fairy."

"... Idiot."

I chuckled as he straightened his head and promptly winced, reaching up to rub his sore neck. But of course, the only hand he had available was the one dangling over the side of the tub. And when he moved that, he made another pained noise and tried to flex the pain out of his elbow joint.

"Your fault for falling asleep in the bathtub."

He opened an eye to glare at me in the semi-darkness. He removed the hand on top of mine to massage the tension from his neck, and I dropped my hand and shifted to relieve the ache in my own joints.

"Shut up."

I grinned at him as I leaned forward to kiss his lips lightly. "Now you're going to be all pruney."

He pulled his hand away from his neck at my comment and stared down at his fingertips. Sure enough, the skin had soaked up too much water and bunched together in the center. I laughed as he pouted at the digits.

"Ugh."

"Not much for conversation now, are we?"

"No one asked for your opinion."

He made a face as he shifted in the water, reaching down into the tub and pulling the plug so as to drain out the water. When he sat back up he appeared a bit confused as he looked at the edge of the tub; he was probably wondering where his textbook was. "Wait... where's--"

"Right here." I pointed to the anatomy book, still open to the correct page, on the floor right next to me. He looked a bit sheepish when I rolled my eyes at him. "You're going to kill yourself, you know."

"I'm perfectly content with my life and have no reason to commit suicide."

He was rising out of the tub, body glistening in the faint moonlight. His legs met his hips with a slight angle, accentuating the curve of his thigh. I didn't stare at him because I wanted him; lord knows I do. Rather I stared at him simply so I could admire the angles and curves of his body, and the way his hair seemed to deepen to a dusty grey with water.

"You know what I mean, bookworm."

He reached out for a towel and I watched as his muscles slid over bone, admiring the way they tightened and formed ripples on the stretch of his skin. It was taut and smooth like paper, and equally pale. When I looked up to his face, he was grinning as he toweled off his hair. "Find something interesting, hmm?"

"Absolutely." I then proceeded to stare straight at the apex of his legs.

The damp towel came into contact with the side of my head and I laughed. He laughed too as he pulled the towel back, continuing to dry himself off. "Lecher."

"Kettle calling the pot black," I hummed sweetly.

He chose to ignore that comment in favor of running the towel over his body to catch the last remnants of moisture. He stepped out of the tub carefully and dried off his feet. "I have finals soon," he started quietly, hair in his face as he rubbed the sole of his foot, "and I need to pass."

I propped my elbow on the edge of the tub and watched the way his muscles shifted. "Won't do any good if you've exhausted yourself before the exam and are too tired to think straight."

"I still need to stu--"

"Go out with me tonight, Bakura." I smiled softly at him as he turned around to look at me, the towel wrapped loosely around his hips and low enough to tease the eye by exposing his hipbones. "You need a break."

He continued staring down at me, lower lip caught between the rows of his teeth as he thought it over. The uncertain expression he wore smoothed out the angles of his face and gave him a childish appearance. When the silence continued to stretch on, I took it upon myself to urge along his decision.

"Ne," I purred softly as I crept closer, "come with me, please...?" I rose to my knees when I was directly by him, lifting my arms and wrapping them around his slim waist. My cheek pressed against his smooth stomach and his breathing caused my head to move in a slight up and down movement. I let my hands trail along his skin, tracing the ridges of his spine absently. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

His fingers buried themselves in my hair and stroked it gently. "Why do I get the feeling you're only trying to get me in bed again." His voice was soft and teasing, and I lifted my face up and matched his grin with one of my own.

"Because I am."

His eyes narrowed, though his lips pushed out in a sexy pout. He gave my hair a sharp tug and I chuckled as he feigned being hurt. "All you keep me around for is the sex."

My lips had found their way to a jutting hipbone, licking and nipping at it. "I'm appalled," I murmured against his skin, "that you would think such a thing."

He laughed softly and tugged on my hair a bit before I rose to me feet. His hands kept their hold on my hair as he leaned up and pressed our lips together, stealing my breath and giving me his. I pulled him close and took in his scent, knowing that I was already too attached for my own good.

"So is that a yes?" I whispered as we pulled apart.

His eyes were closed and he pressed our foreheads together, leaning against me and stealing my warmth.

"Yeah."

**-TBC-**


End file.
